


How to Marry a Vulcan 101

by cowgirldressage1



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23882266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowgirldressage1/pseuds/cowgirldressage1
Summary: How did Jim and Spock get married? This is my take on it with a quick trip through Shi’kahr and a bit of pwp. This is an old story of mine that I have re-edited and fixed some plot holes. There is a bit of angst, romance and humor. This is about 7 chapters and will be updated weekly.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 10
Kudos: 68





	1. A Misunderstanding

**Author's Note:**

> I declare under penalty of perjury that Paramount its issues and heirs , own Star Trek, I make no profit there from.

“God DAMN it Spock! Why do I have to find out these things by accident? It’s just plain embarrassing!” Jim Kirk practically threw his rook at his First Officer during their regularly scheduled chess game.

Spock looked meek, his brown eyes laughably large on his face, embarrassment flushing his cheeks an endearing apple green.

“Oh don’t give me that ‘who little ole me’ expression.”

Stomping around his quarters, Jim was justifiably annoyed at his First Officer and fiancé. It was fundamentally unfair to find out that a Vulcan betrothal ceremony was required before any intimate contact between couples.

Worse, it was humiliating to find this out from an Andorran bureaucrat while booking a romantic and expensive shore leave on Risa.

His plans for a lengthily and erotic holiday dashed, Jim sat in his desk chair and pouted. 

“My apologies. Had I know you were planning such an excursion, I would have advised you of the necessity of such a ceremony prior to any attempts to...”

Spock’s response drifted to a stop as he watched his T’hyla deflate in disappointment. 

He couldn’t blame Jim really. When their friendship had changed into something more, he should have explained the steps, he, as Spock cha’ Sarek, was required to take to create a mating bond.

More gently, Spock added, “Truly Jim, it is my intention to go forward and make you my own,” he reached out and placed a tender hand on Jim’s face.

“Please understand that in order for our bond to be received by my House, certain formalities must be observed. Without these formalities, our marriage and bond will not engender the respect they are due.”

Spock’s voice lowered, “And that, I will not tolerate.”

Jim heard the steel in his voice, sighed and pulled Spock into his arms. Chin resting on a warm shoulder, he inhaled Spock’s scent. This would have to be enough for now, stolen kisses both human and Vulcan. Anything more intimate he had not been willing to test. Spock had been reluctant and Jim wisely had learned to keep his desires in check. Well, at least until more formal arrangements could be devised .

Jim pulled himself back into the chess game.

“You know, Spock, I never imagined myself a virgin bride.”

Spock raised an elegance eyebrow, “Nor did I.” With that sarcastic rejoinder, the subject was closed.

The chess game resumed. They had been playing their own game of romance and intimacy. But they had been at a stalemate for months, unable to go forward but unwilling to go back to just being friends. Jim was bridling at the lack of intimacy. Spock, truth be told, was having difficulty keeping the Vulcan customs. He wanted Jim in every way possible. He could do very little without the bonding ceremony just because Vulcan culture simply didn’t do causal sex.

Ironically, it wasn’t as if they were planning a one night stand or a brief affair. They had discussed the martial bond at length, it’s difference from the T’hyla bond which only allowed sex during Pon Farr. They had made the commitment to each other based on love and respect. 

Well, making love to Jim was expressly forbidden unless Spock could create a marital bond first. He had no doubt under the right circumstances he could do it himself without a healer. But patient as he was by nature, the situation was increasingly frustrating for both of them. Jim was beautiful in mind and body, full of passion. Even a Vulcan had his limits.

Spock plotted. Options presented themselves and were summarily discarded, finally, a plausible solution presented itself. With sufficient planning, it might be possible. Vulcan custom would be satisfied and so would Jim and Spock.

With a barely detectable smirk, Spock concluded the game.

“Checkmate, Jim.”

Jim groaned and reached forward and softly touched Spock’s fingers. At least Spock wasn’t going to give up on anything’s.


	2. The Ancient City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea of Shi' Kahr and perhaps spent too much detail describing it. It is based on all the old cities in Europe, particularly Gamla Stan in Stockholm.

Spock’s plan to create a betrothal bond with his Captain required a guaranteed uninterrupted shore leave and a certain element of surprise. It would also include an excursion to Vulcan without his parents’ knowledge. Jim had had some negative experiences with his home world and Spock could only hope this visit would go better. 

Jim had been to Vulcan three times in the last two years. The first time was for Spock’s aborted Koon-tu-kal-if-fee. No sightseeing that time, only near death on red sands. 

Afterwards, Spock changed. He became interested. Interested in interacting with his coworkers, who eventually developed into friends, interested in socializing with the crew, interested in Jim. Jim found that Spock actively sought his attention, eating virtually every meal with him in the Mess or their respective quarters. Their weekly chess games continued and multiplied but frequently devolved into conversation, chess pieces lying forlorn on Jim’s desk. 

Doctor McCoy suspected Spock had finally gone through puberty and actually had grown a heart and a libido. Jim, already hopelessly in love with his First Officer, truly hoped he was right.

Jim’s second trip to Vulcan had been an equally brief diplomatic visit to the Vulcan High Council. There had been no actual blood letting that time although there were moments when he thought it might come down to it. 

The issue had been a petition to transfer mining rights from one party to another. Of course, the High Council had a finger in that, and virtually any profitable venture in the quadrant. Jim almost, but not quite, liked the Ferengi approach to commerce better. At least you had a chance to win an argument with a Ferengi trader. Vulcans were always right. He’d had enough of that on the Bridge of the Enterprise. 

It was the High Council’s dismissive attitude towards the Federation representatives, particularly one half Human and half Vulcan Star Fleet officer, that really rankled. The third time a Council member interrupted Spock and then pretended he hadn’t been speaking, Jim had actually gotten up out of his seat at the conference table and stalked off. The word “illogical” came up several times and only an Admiral’s intervention saved the negotiations. 

Spock shouldn’t have been surprised by Jim’s defense, but he was. He followed Jim back to the Enterprise and was able to express his gratitude and affection in a surprisingly effective manner. Jim had been delighted when Spock added a certain degree of intimacy to their relationship. Their friendship began a slow change to the kind of love neither of them had ever thought they would experience.

Once Spock got it through his thick head that he was worthy of Jim’s love, things proceeded rapidly, leading to the third trip to Vulcan. This visit was just a few days at Spock’s parents’ home, far north of the city of Shi' Kahr. A few days, which felt more like a few months. 

It was an awkward kind of “meet the parents” visit, soothed somewhat by Amanda’s genial warmth. Sarek and Spock had thawed slightly toward each other but matters remained tense. Bringing Jim home turned out to be the least of their problems. They made a point to be out of the house as often as courtesy would allow.

Jim and Spock took this opportunity to   
see the sights of modern Shi’ Kahr. The city was a huge metropolis, beginning on a plain and sweeping up the sides of the rugged L-langon mountains. Colorful homes and buildings were generally made of a sculpted material that looked like stone. They were laid out in a logical pattern that was restful yet quite lovely. The modern part of the city boasted spires which rose up to the ever changing sky, glittering silver, bronze, and copper, sparkling with fields of energy. The technology was breathtaking.

Ultimately, and despite Sarek and Amanda’s approval of Jim, it was not one of their better shore leaves. Matters between them literally were heating up and they had reached an impasse. Spock’s sexuality could best be described as innocent bordering on virginal. Jim was tired of cold showers, long exhausting workouts, and his right hand. All they needed was time alone in a place, definitely not a bright hotel on Risa or his childhood bedroom, where Spock felt comfortable enough to begin building a mental and physical bond with Jim.

Two months later, Spock saw his opportunity. The Enterprise was ordered to Space Dock for minor upgrades, close enough to the Eridani system to take a fast shuttle to Vulcan. Jim was advised to pack causal for three days of shore leave, ordered to the transporter room to meet his First Officer and beam over to the transport.

It was a bit of a mystery to Jim. He knew they were going to Vulcan and would be visiting the Old City in Shi’ Kahr. They wouldn’t be staying with Spock’s parents. This time Spock had a secret destination in mind. Jim had tried to pry out of him, to no avail.

The shuttle’s transporter released them at the station just a few blocks from their mysterious destination. Jim looked at his companion, dressed casually in loose black pants and a rich brown tunic that almost exactly matched his mahogany eyes. Spock held an old fashion satchel filled with Jim’s clothing and personal items. Spock brought nothing himself which made Jim itch with curiosity. 

Leaving the modern, efficient transporter station, they walked together down the boulevard, shoulders brushing. They walked without really speaking, Spock occasionally pointing out some building of significance in the distance. 

As the pair rounded a corner, they looked up and saw the huge bronze doors of the Ancient Gate, the traditional entrance to the Old City of Shi’ Kahr. They were massive, heavily embossed with Golic script. On either side, were enormous statues of Evekh and Suvin, carved into the stone walls.

Spock watched his friend and T’hyla look at the Gate in awe. 

“Spock, this is . . . incredible!”

“Indeed. The script dates from 930 years before Surak. Of course the bas-reliefs are somewhat newer, by approximately, 1,246 years. There is an interesting fact about the construction . . .”

“Spock. Spock!” Jim’s hands came up defensively, “How about we find a place to take a load off and you can give me the full lecture over a glass of, well . . . water?”

Spock looked at Jim quizzically, dismissing the expected question about human idioms in favor of getting his flushed and perspiring Captain out of the sun and to their destination.

“Very well, Captain. If you would come with me. . .”

“Captain?” Jim muttered, “We’re back to that? On shore leave?”

“Indeed, Captain, Vulcan custom dictates that it is most appropriate to refer to you in public, formally by your title. Now, if you follow me, we have an appointment scheduled with respect to our abode for the evening.”

With that, Spock turned and made his way through a side door in the Ancient Gate. Jim followed willingly, somewhat distracted by the alien architecture and curious about where they were heading. Spock led them through a maze of lanes that wound through the Old City. The traffic was on foot or occasionally a palanquin would go by across narrow brick and cobbled streets. 

The inhabitants of the Old City wore the same robes, tunics, and dress found anywhere on Vulcan. Children were a rare sight in the Old City, though a few could be seen silently following their parents on various errands. There did seem to be quite a few students walking, carrying heavy bags full of PADDS and other materials. Not knowing much about religion on Vulcan, and even less about Spock’s beliefs, apart from the IDIC, he couldn’t help staring at what appeared to be priests or priestesses as they walked silently through the streets. Their white robes brushed the cobblestones and they carried baskets filled with everything from scrolls to produce. 

“Captain, attend please. We are at our destination.” Spock broke into Jim’s reverie.

Spock had stopped in front of a dark red building, located on a corner, and covered with a type of dark green and yellow vine growing up to the tiled roof. Vulcan script was barely legible on the walls. Tables were set on the ancient cracked sidewalk, awnings stretched out providing relief from the merciless sun. 

This was a restaurant or bakery of some kind. The smells of yeast and dough baking, fruit and spice had Jim’s stomach growling. Spock threw him an amused glance and led him through a side door.

At that moment, a plump middle aged Vulcan popped out of the kitchen. She was carrying two plates of what looked like pastry and sternly gave orders to whoever was in the kitchen behind her. When she saw Spock, she stopped and didn’t try to hide her astonishment. 

“Osu,” she said, dropping her head, “ With respect, we didn’t expect you for another 4.23 hours.”

“I regret I did not inform you of our change of schedule, I am sure everything is satisfactory. T’Marra, I would introduce you to my Captain, James Kirk, who will be my guest for my stay on Vulcan. Captain Kirk, this is T’Marra, of long acquaintance, who sees to O’Komekh Tea Shop.”

“Madam, I am honored,” with that, Jim raised his hand in the Ta’al, gave a short bow, and smiled delightedly at T’Marra. 

“Captain Kirk, you are welcome here,” there was a hint of amusement in T’Marra’s voice. Jim imagined this ‘long-time acquaintance’ might have some interesting stories to tell about Spock. 

“Please Captain, we should not detain T’Marra and her staff further. You will have an opportunity to interview her later. Please follow me.”

With a final smile at T’Marra and additional nod of her head, Jim followed Spock up the narrow staircase to the second floor. Spock stopped at a door and laid his palm against the metal sensory panel. After a moment, it flashed green and Spock fished out an old fashion key from his tunic and opened the door. Jim strained around Spock’s shoulder for a peek into the room, to no avail. Spock gently tossed the satchel inside and turned and picked up Jim in his arms. Jim squeaked when Spock carried him over the threshold and into the center of the room. Before Jim could even glance around, he was given what could only be described as a hearty kiss.  
Jim was delighted. It was a strange apartment on an alien planet yet he had the sense that they were home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do so appreciate comments if you are inclined.


	3. Building Bridges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, I am terrible at writing porn, errr. . . intimacy. It's reasonably graphic but light hearted. No they're not married just yet.

Chapter 3: Building bridges

“Put me DOWN!” Jim roared. He flailed in Spock’s arms feeling foolish.

“I believe it is customary to carry the ‘bride’ over the threshold in order to begin one’s nuptials,” Spock was tightly holding on to his Captain.

“First, I am not the bride here. Do I look like one? Have you ever seen anyone who looks less like a blushing bride? Second, what do you mean, nuptials? We aren’t even betrothed yet and you . . .”

“Gugggghhh!” Jim found himself being swung around and carried through the living room of what was evidently an apartment, down a narrow hall and into a surprisingly cool bedroom. Just before he was unceremoniously dumped onto the bed, Spock muttered:

“Do be quiet, Captain!” With that, Spock kissed him.

Although Jim was vaguely curious about the room he was in, apart from the general dimness and soft bed, he found really couldn’t care less. He pulled away and stretched luxuriously sending Spock his best ‘come hither’ look. Spock looked at him appraisingly, climbed onto the bed and lay down beside him, head propped up in his left hand, his right delicately tracing Jim’s chest.

“So, this Vulcan betrothal ceremony that we are evidently skipping, not that I am complaining . . .” Jim trailed off sighing as Spock began to undo the clasps of his shirt.

“We are not ‘skipping’ anything, Jim. The ceremony requires that I claim what is mine, on property owned by my House or myself. As the Tea Shop and attendant apartments are owned partially by me, I am fulfilling the requirements.”

At that, Spock leaned in to kiss Jim. Just as his lips touched down, Jim pushed him away.

“Wait a minute, Mister. You mean to tell me we don’t need some grandiose ceremony with T’Pau in attendance and several grim Vulcan priests threatening mind melds?’

“No, Jim.”

“No flower girls throwing blossoms at our feet?”

“No, Jim.”

“No exotic robes that are impossible to get on, or more importantly, off?”

“No, Jim.”

“So we could have done all this at your parents’ house when we visited?”

Spock sighed, “Absolutely not!”

More urgently, his hand pulled open Jim’s shirt, “I require a certain amount of privacy, at least initially, for the kind of activity I wish to undertake at this moment. With your permission . . .”

With that, Spock began softly kissing Jim’s neck. Jim’s arms came around him, securing him in a hard embrace. Spock threw a long leg over Jim’s body and eased his weight onto him.

Jim was suddenly reminded about how heavy Spock was in this gravity. He was also getting too warm. Squirming a bit, Jim managed to kick off his shoes and socks and began work on Spock’s clothing. 

Getting the hint, Spock managed to shed both his boots and tunic, never breaking the kiss that was becoming more passionate every minute. This felt intimate. This felt familiar. They had done this before, sealed in their quarters, chests bare, clothed from the waist down, only touching each other through uniform trousers. Spock had never allowed it to go further, damping down their mutual excitement and deflecting it into an easy affection.

In this dim cool room, they were free to explore each other. Spock had not only given his permission to touch and be touched, he was actively trying to arouse Jim. Jim could feel a familiar tension in his groin. And Spock? He was a wonder, responsive to Jim’s every caress, his ardor growing at every touch.

Just like their professional life, control of any given situation was shared. Spock may have organized this moment, but Jim was going to make sure its execution was played to perfection. 

He pushed Spock back onto his knees, still astride Jim’s hips, keeping eye contact. His hands reached for the fastenings of Spock’s pants, undid them, and slid them down his thighs. Spock was now exposed in a way he had never been before, his body flushed with pleasure. 

He’d always found Spock’s expression easy to read but at this moment, he knew he’d never before seen any thing like this. Spock’s eyes were wide with astonishment as if he couldn’t believe what was happening between them. His lips were parted slightly and his tongue swept his suddenly dry lips. Jim smiled. Spock looked almost wanton. 

His attention traveled south from Spock’s beloved face, down his long neck, past shoulders to his chest, muscular and covered with black hair, to his narrow waist, to . . . Ah, that. Jim had seen Spock naked, he had touched his erection covered in clothing, but this was the real thing. It was irresistible. Jim reached out with both hands and gently ran the tips of his fingers down Spock’s sides. His expression was completely open and exposed. Jim could smell his scent, unusually musky, coming off him in waves. Jim wanted nothing more than to kiss Spock, sink into his lovely mouth and show him how incredibly arousing he was. Jim kept up his light finger play, gently stroking Spock’s abdomen and chest, alternating with a well-placed fingernail. 

As Jim’s fingers made their way to the Vulcan’s erection, Spock suddenly jerked his hips away, reaching rather desperately for the nightstand next to the bed. Jim lay back smiling, knowing exactly what Spock was going for and enjoying a respite from the excitement. Seconds later, Spock was back with a tub of what had to be lubricant in his hand. Fumbling, distracted fingers, normally so deft, tried to open the lid. Jim pulled it out of his hands and opened the lube, laying it aside for the moment. Spock’s mouth dropped open when he felt Jim’s fingers gently enclose his penis in a cool moist hand, urging him to remain still. 

Letting go, Jim, realized he was wearing too many clothes, and quickly shrugged out of his pants and helped Spock pull his all the way off. He urged Spock to kneel astride him once more. Instinct took over and Spock tried to rub their erections together, but Jim pushed him back. Spock avidly watched Jim’s hands as he coated his fingers and palms with the lube. 

Jim began to lightly stroke Spock’s erection again. Well-lubricated fingers massaged him intimately. Fingertips entered his body, alternating with harder strokes to his erection. Spock grabbed Jim by his wrists, pulling and pushing his hands in an ever-increasing frenzy, moaning and gasping.

Jim couldn’t watch Spock’s face. He was too aroused. Instead, he looked down between Spock’s thighs and saw that his hips were beginning to make short sharp thrusts, and his penis was leaking a clear fluid. Spock might not realize it, but he looked like he was going to come within seconds. 

Jim honestly had never cared who topped or bottomed in his previous relationships. However, there was something so innocent and vulnerable about Spock’s expression at that moment, he knew he had to take him first. Spock was so aroused at this point; making quiet needy sounds, Jim didn’t think for a second Spock was in any condition to take control of the situation.

Lying back on the bed, Jim used one hand to continue to stimulate Spock and the other to coat his own erection with lube. Spock was thrusting weakly into Jim’s now slippery hand, and had dropped his head to watch Jim closely, not wanting to miss a second of the action. Slick hands grasped Spock’s hips and pushed him over his cock, pulling him down while gently thrusting upward. Spock frowned at the pain, the stretch, the feeling of fullness. For a moment, Jim thought he’d made a huge miscalculation and Spock was overwhelmed by the stimulation. Nevertheless, he continued to stroke Spock’s penis, twisting slightly on the up stroke. 

It was no miscalculation. Spock was transfixed, staring at Jim’s erection as it disappeared in his body. He couldn’t help himself and sank deeper onto Jim, settling into an easy rhythm. 

Reaching forward with his right hand, he touched Jim’s psi points. It was a meld but there were no words, just feelings of anticipation, desire, want, and heat blazing from him, body and mind. 

This was the bond. This was the beginning of the bridge Spock was painstakingly building between them. Empathy and desire flowed both ways through the meld. Jim could almost picture the bond being constructed between them, stone by stone, brick by brick. 

Jim felt his own desire spike and realized he really didn’t have any more time left. He began to thrust up into the hot, tight body. Jim continued stroking Spock’s penis harder and faster. He felt Spock’s body tighten and stutter, his head thrown back, neck bared, eyes tightly closed. This was more than enough stimulus for Jim to let go and explode inside his lover. Spock’s orgasm initially appeared to be dry as he quaked and shook. Jim opened his eyes in time to see hot semen flood his chest. 

What ever Spock had done with his telepathy, now only a whisper was left. The feeling that they were still connected on some level hummed like background noise between them.

Spock gingerly dismounted and fell sideways on the bed, like a downed tree. Jim couldn’t help it, he started to giggle. Spock grunted. Jim began to laugh. Soon he was chortling and gasping for breath while Spock turned over onto his back, throwing an arm over his face. Jim paused and glanced over.

No way. There was no way Spock was smiling. No, he was grinning. Was that a chuckle?

Jim whooped and pounced on Spock, who let out a huff of air.

“Gods! I love you! I just LOVE you!” Jim was practically shouting with glee. 

Spock grabbed him by the shoulders and said softly, “As I do you.”

Jim stopped then and looked into warm brown eyes. “So, are we married now?”

“Recall what must be accomplished for the betrothal Jim. I promise we shall be, in perhaps, 1.32 hours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments thus far. I love them.


	4. Mine

Spock was hardly disgruntled that he been so artfully seduced by his lover. Jim was strong-minded and very dominant. There was a certain pleasure in allowing him to take the lead. Spock would be the first to admit that his lack of experience had worried him. He had been afraid he would do something wrong, hurt Jim, fail to satisfy him. Now, his nerves settled, he was far more confident about what yet had to be done. The bond was growing in his mind; every touch, every caress strengthening it. Jim probably couldn’t feel it yet, but Spock was certain he would soon. The stronger it grew, the more connected Spock felt to Jim’s mind and body, the less likely he could damage him.

Spock pushed off the bed and meandered over to a deep closet and began rummaging around. He was looking for something and Jim suddenly realized this was Spock’s room. This was why Spock hadn’t brought any luggage with him. This was home of a sort, completely separate and apart from his life on the Enterprise. It was another secret part of his life that was only now revealed to Jim. 

Jim was slightly troubled by this. There had been two many secrets between them over the last few years. Jim had Tarsus IV, Ruth, and his complicated relationship with his brother Sam. Still, he felt he had been open with Spock, willing to explain their significance when each secret had been revealed. Spock’s secrets were just as personal, such as the identity of his parents, T’Pring, and yes, Pon Farr. Despite the legend that Vulcans couldn’t lie, Spock had not only lied by omission, but also overtly, when he had hijacked the Enterprise to take his crippled former Captain to Talos IV. 

It had been incrediably difficult to get Spock to talk, really talk, about any of them other than a brief recitation of basic facts. That Spock had a secret apartment in Shi’ Kahr wasn’t significant but it bothered Jim that he hadn’t known about it. As the nascent bond grew, Jim hoped their secrets would be exposed, at least to each other. He suspected, however, that his very private lover would always have something up his sleeve.

Done ruminating for the moment, he watched as Spock stood in front of the closet, giving Jim an opportunity to appreciate his tall lanky frame from the back. What a lovely sight it was. He was all long lean lines and completely unselfconscious in his nudity. Jim felt a wave of possessiveness. This was his Vulcan, brilliant, gorgeous and surprisingly passionate. Gods, he wanted him again!

Jim sighed and lay back on the bed, finally taking in Spock’s bedroom. The building must be very old. The room itself was unexpectedly rustic, thick walls covered with a rough white plaster, stone of some sort exposed along the baseboards. There was little furniture and no wood wasted on decoration on this water starved world. The bed was high, covered with a woven white duvet. It had finials at its four corners made out of a dark rugged metal. A tall drawered chest, or nightstand, stood next to the bed. The room was cool even though it was on the second floor, partially because of the high ceiling. A warm breeze came through an open floor to ceiling window, louvered blinds pulled to the side, and a slight shimmer of an energy field of some kind prevented sand or other particulates from entering.

Spock let out a satisfied noise and turned around with two robes in his hands. He casually tossed one in Jim’s direction and pulled on the other.

“What, you aren’t going to help me dress, Mister Spock?” Jim was furiously batting his eyelashes, hoping to get another smile from his lover.

Unphased, Spock responded, “No, Jim, you are quite capable I am sure. I am, however, going to feed you. Join me, please.” With that, he held out his hand to help Jim off the bed.

Hand in hand, they walked down the short hallway, past what was probably a fresher and a spare room. The hallway led into a great room, which was a combination of a kitchen and living area.

The great room was similar to the bedroom, white, and barely larger than his own quarters on the Enterprise. The furniture consisted of a low couch, an entertainment and communication console, and a few scattered rare and finely wrought wood tables. On two walls, the large windows revealed a view out onto the streets and the tiled rooftops of the Old City. This room was more personal; a colorful rug on the floor, a few small paintings, and shelves filled with artifacts, which would bear later study. 

Spock pulled him by the hand into the kitchen area that boasted a cold box, what appeared to be an ancient open oven and thankfully, a replicator. Spock dropped Jim’s hand and immediately opened the cold box, pulling out a tray of fruit and vegetables along with an iced carafe of tea. T’Marra was Jim’s new hero. Spock motioned to the shelves and Jim quickly began to pull down plates, wrestling briefly with the elderly old fashion drawers for utensils. 

Sitting down beside Jim on a low bench in front of a long cloth covered table, Spock spread out their refreshment. With a satisfied sigh he gestured to Jim to help himself. 

Jim piled his plate with the strange fruits and vegetables and tore off a hunk of bread. It was so fresh; it must have come from the Tea Shop below. 

Speaking around a mouthful of food, Jim couldn’t resist his curiosity any longer.

“So, Spock, where are we exactly? I mean, how do you know T’Marra, and why do you have a secret hideaway above a bakery of all places?”

Spock waited until he finished chewing his food, pondering the most efficient answer to Jim’s several questions.

“We are approximately 0.71 kilometers from the Ancient Gate, in the Old City of Shi’ Kahr. We are at the corner of Shikovenn and Sajik, on the second floor of a building, originally a bakery, currently called O’Komekh Tea Shop. We are 8.2 kilometers from the Vulcan Science Academy, due north and 4.65 kilometers from the Old Palace, which is to the southeast. The latitude . . .”

“Okay, you know that isn’t what I meant.”

“Indeed, I am attempting to answer your question.” There was a definite smile in Spock’s voice. 

Taking pity on Jim, who was beginning to get a petulant expression, Spock continued: 

“You recall, I told you that I must make you mine on property held by me or my House. This apartment, indeed, this building, is owned, in part, by me. I resided here during my tenure at the Science Academy.”

“You didn’t live at home with your parents?”

“You have met my parents, Jim. Can you imagine the absence of privacy I would have endured if I had lived in their home?”

Jim was astonished. He was learning more about Spock in this conversation, than he had over hours of meals and chess games on the Enterprise. He nodded to Spock to continue.

“T’Marra has known me since my days as a student and runs the Tea Shop below at my behest.”

“I guess she is a font of information about your misspent youth,” Jim teased.

“Hardly, she has been sworn to secrecy in any case.”

Jim smiled slyly. Odds of him charming T’Marra into some revealing tales were high.

Spock cocked his head and lifted his eyebrow. Surely Jim didn’t think he could use his wiles on a Vulcan. The irony of that thought utterly escaped him for a moment. Then he sighed.

“As for this apartment being a secret hideaway, it is not. It is mine however and it would be an understatement to say I have long wanted to share it with you.” 

That had to be the most romantic statement Jim had ever heard out of his logical First Officer’s mouth. Jim couldn’t resist. He reached over and pulled Spock into a hard hug.

“So, Mister Spock, how are we going to do that exactly?”

“Are you referring to sharing the apartment or making you mine?”

Jim was mentally humming with glee. Innuendos and flirting? Shore leave on Risa would never have been this good!

There was only one real answer to Spock’s question. Jim pulled him up by the front of his robe and backed him out of the great room, down the hall and back into the bedroom. Hands still fisted in the robe, he pushed Spock onto the bed. Jim managed to untie the fastenings to Spock’s robe while shrugging out of his own. 

Face to face, Spock took a good long look at his lover. Jim hung over him, strong arms holding him up, broad shoulders tapering into a trim waist. He wasn’t a big man, his hands and feet were small and his frame seemed almost delicate. Yet, he was covered by broad flat muscles, toned like the athlete he was. His smooth tanned chest and warm hazel eyes made him incredibly exotic to Spock, used to Vulcan paleness and dark hair.

Spock ran his sensitive fingers down the sides of Jim’s torso. He could feel wonder and desire coming off him in waves. He reached up with one hand and pushed an errant curl off Jim’s forehead before stroking down his powerful back. Fingers reached the curve of his ass and petted as he pushed aside the cheeks. Long fingers circled Jim’s center, making Spock’s intention and desire very clear. Spock looked down his body to Jim’s cock, thick and wide, angry red, veins pulsing. 

“Oh . . . “ Jim reached down and grasped it by the base, buying himself time and giving tacit permission to proceed. 

Spock easily flipped Jim over so that Spock was on top. He slowly crawled down Jim’s body kissing and nuzzling, rubbing his face and chest against his lover’s torso. Jim swore he was being marked. Spock tentatively took him in his mouth, tasting him for the first time. His flavors reminded Spock of the Terran ocean, salt and sweat, with a strange bitter flavor. Jim gasped beneath him and thrust up into his mouth. This only fanned Spock’s arousal. Spock wanted more. More smell, more taste, more sighs and gasps, more everything. He recognized he was working himself up too fast and too high. This was becoming overwhelming. He was losing both physical and emotional control. Part of him wanted to lick and tease Jim; the other part felt an animalistic instinct to sink into his body, as Jim had done to him earlier. 

Jim didn’t seem to care either way. Spock looked up to see him propped up on his elbows, watching Spock make love to him with his mouth.

“Yes, yes, like that. Oh my Gods!”

Spock, so focused he was on Jim’s physical response, was startled. Spock continued to lave Jim’s cock, up and down the prominent vein at its base, using the flat, tip of his tongue, to drive Jim mad. 

Finally, Jim shot out an arm and grabbed the tub of lube, still rolling around the bed. With his other hand he gently stroked Spock’s face, encouraging him to stop. Spock looked up into Jim’s half lidded eyes. There was something almost comical about Spock’s mouth stretched around Jim’s cock. It was also the sexiest thing Jim had ever seen. Torn, he let out a huff of laughter. Spock let go in surprise. He was amazed at Jim’s control, even now, so different from his own howling lack earlier in the afternoon.

Spock took the tub from Jim’s hands and began to apply it to his own over stimulated cock. His hands trembled slightly as he touched and caressed himself. As Jim watched him, he slowly and seductively drew his thighs up and spread his legs, demonstrating exactly where he wanted Spock. Jim’s eyes never left Spock’s stroking hands. Things were beginning to reach a crisis for Spock, who took his well-lubricated penis and pushed against Jim’s tight hole. Not only was Jim spread open for him but the sight of him touching and driving himself into a frenzy was becoming too much to bear. Looking into Jim’s hazel eyes, dark with passion, Spock pushed in until he was securely mounted. 

Jim was warm and tight around him. The feeling of being inside Jim’s body was arousing as expected. What he didn’t expect was the completeness, the security, and the joy of burying himself in Jim. This was where he belonged. This was home. 

Suddenly, Spock realized with shock he had done nothing to prepare Jim. His desire momentarily flagged with the thought he could be hurting his lover. He reached once again for Jim’s psi points intending to block Jim’s pain. He felt instead, powerful desire rushing through him. He burned as he continued to thrust helplessly into him, every push driving him deeper and deeper into Jim’s mind and body.

Finally, Spock felt himself tighten. He braced his arms for a final thrust that nearly pushed Jim off the bed. His orgasm wrenched a hoarse cry from his body. He pushed Jim’s hand out of the way and grabbed his cock as he came, just a few hard strokes and Jim yelled, semen splashing his stomach. 

Spock carefully pulled out of Jim and dropped a quick kiss to the middle of his chest, where Jim’s precious heart beat. He rolled over onto his back and they lay side by side, on the bed, senseless, completely wrecked. Spock had a brief grateful thought that the windows were sound proof. Jim stared at the ceiling praying to the Gods that he would never have to move again.

Between them was a thought, tenuous and new born, a sense of each others’ emotions, that was forming the basis of the bond Spock had tried to weave through two matings with Jim. Words couldn’t pass between the two through the bond, but an understanding of who they were, together and separate, was beginning.

They dozed on the bed, listening to the sounds of the city all around them. No duty awaited them, just hours and days to spend as they pleased with each other. Deep even breathing filled the room as they drifted between sleep and awareness, unaware of time passing.

Jim, surprisingly, was the first to drift back to consciousness. He had admired the back of his eyelids long enough. He could smell something sweet baking below them. He could feel the warm afternoon begin to cool. He could feel his lover’s warm arm beside him. He was home. And by Gods, he was starving. He dug a well-placed elbow in Spock’s side. Waking, Spock sighed yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies, I hate writing porn.


	5. Dinner and a . . .

With his usual energy, Jim bolted straight up on the bed, dislodging the warm arm that had draped across his chest.

“Well, I’m hungry!”

Spock sleepily gazed at the well-defined back in front of him and tried to tug him back down on the bed.

Laughing, “No . . . food now! I have to keep up my strength if you expect me to carry on with your salacious appetites.”

Spock shot him a look under long eyelashes and quirked an eyebrow.

“No, Jim. Bath now. It is becoming increasingly steamy and yes, fragrant in this room.”

Spock stood and looked down at Jim sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet barely brushing the polished concrete floor. Quickly, before Jim could protest, Spock picked him up in a fireman’s carry and walked briskly toward the fresher down the hall.

For a moment, Jim was suspiciously silent but then, “Are you planning to carry me everywhere now?” His words were somewhat muffled but Spock could still hear amusement along with indignation in Jim’s voice. 

“Of course, if that is what you wish. I merely thought this would be the most efficient manner in which to induce you to bathe. Thus allowing us to eat that much sooner.”

Jim found himself placed gently on his feet in the fresher, complete with a sonic shower, a commode and a pile of towels. 

“Join me?”

“Not if you wish to have dinner within a reasonable time. You did say you were hungry, after all.”

Jim didn’t exactly pout, later he would have a few opportunities to lure Spock into a shower.

“Have it your way, my friend.”

Spock left Jim to wash. Jim now had a chance to process what had just happened between them. He mentally felt for the hum in his mind that he was beginning to realize was Spock and the bond. It was there, not loud or demanding, just a comforting presence. 

Jim finished bathing in record time, wrapped in one of the large white towels, wandered into the great room. He was just in time to see Spock sitting at the communication console, speaking to someone, thankfully in voice-only mode. It just wouldn’t do to have someone other than himself, much less a Vulcan, see Spock in his current condition, flushed, with a well fucked expression, hands pushing through his hair. 

Spock spoke in Vulcan, which Jim had always found sexy as hell. As soon as Spock closed the communication, Jim pounced, running his hands over Spock’s chest and shoulders.

Spock made a contented sound, taking Jim’s hands in his, caressing his wrists with his fingers.

“Your turn, lover.”

That got a small smile from Spock. Disentangling himself from Jim’s embrace, “Jim, you are . . .” Spock couldn’t seem to finish his thought. 

“Get dressed please, Jim. I will bathe and join you shortly. We have reservations for dinner at 2000 hours. We have little time to prepare.”

Jim looked out the windows, shocked. Where had the time gone? It was almost dusk which he automatically translated to about 1900 hours. 

“And what should I wear for this historic occasion?”

Spock swept Jim into a fierce hug. “You could wear naught but this towel, and you would look like a king.”

Jim didn’t know where that had come from but bestowed his Vulcan with a grateful squeeze. Before he pushed him away, Jim gave him a playful swat on his ass, causing Spock to turn and give him a baleful look.

Spara was actually a supper club in the Old City. Eons ago, it probably had been a small warehouse. It still boasted high open ceilings and weathered stone walls and floors. One entire side was open to the sidewalk and street, as seemed to be the custom with Old City eateries. 

They were greeted at the door by their host, a short elderly Vulcan, wearing a surprisingly fashionable suit. Jim glanced down at his freshly pressed white shirt and khaki slacks They were courtesy of T’Marra and her well-trained staff who seemed to do everything for the household in addition to running the Tea Shop. He hoped he wasn’t underdressed. Despite Spock’s illogical fondness for Jim, attired in a towel, he likely would have mentioned it if more formal attire was required. 

Jim looked over at his lover. He was immaculate, as always, wearing a high-necked black tunic with dark grey slacks that made him appear both elegant and casual at the same time. To Jim, Spock looked like a Prince.

“Osu, welcome to you and your guest.” The host bowed.

“Korek, it is gratifying to see you again. This is my Telsu, Captain James T. Kirk. Jim, this is Korek, our host for this evening.”

“Captain.” Korek nodded properly and swept them inside, moving like a man half his age through the crowded dinning room, past servers weaving their way across the room and a long service bar humming with activity.

As Jim followed Korek and Spock, he thought about the Vulcan words he had just heard. T’Marra had also called Spock by the moniker ‘Osu’. Clearly, it was a title of some kind. Also, Spock had called Jim his Telsu. That word bore translation as well. Finally, Jim noticed that Spock had called him by his given name when he introduced him to Korek. This was a notable change for the formal Vulcan.

Jim and Spock were led out of the main room and into a smaller venue. This room was quiet, intimate and elegant. It was draped with tapestries, deep green, blue and yellow. Their table was in a corner, round and close to the ground, surrounded with colorful pillows for the guests to sit or recline upon. This was a very sensual room; decadent and completely at odds with what Jim knew of Vulcan culture.

They sat side by side, facing the center of the room. Jim noticed there was a stage in the middle, with a variety of instruments laid out. At the opposite end of the room, a long bar stretched out the length of the wall. Several patrons were sitting on high stools, talking quietly.

Spock had clearly preordered their meal. Cocktails, mildly alcoholic arrived first, followed by seeming endless courses of small plates, accompanied by appropriate wines and waters. Jim was delighted by the opportunity to try so many Vulcan dishes, most of which were delicious. Jim ate voraciously and noticed Spock showed more than usual enthusiasm for the meal.

Finishing off the last of their port, which tasted like liquid velvet on Jim’s tongue, Jim saw three musicians come up to the stage and start to set up.

Dinner conversation had been limited to what they were eating and drinking and comparing them to other experiences they had had. Spock had been attentive throughout, occasionally touching the back of Jim’s hand to make a point. His touch both shocked and thrilled Jim in this most public venue.

“Spock, what does ‘Osu’ mean?” 

Spock looked uncomfortable, “It is a form of address, approximating ‘Sir’.’

“Ooookay,” Jim noted Spock’s evasiveness but thought he could pursue it later. He really wanted to know about the other word anyway.

“What about Telsu? What does that mean?”

Spock was actually blushing. “It means ‘bond mate’.” He ducked his head and studied the table in front of him.

“Bond mate,” Jim repeated this with wonder. “You really do love me, don’t you?”

Spock looked at him shyly, “You know I do, Jim.”

“And you called me your ‘bond mate’ in front of Korek,” Jim marveled at this.

“Yes, Jim. You are mine.” Spock sent Jim a scorching look.

“So that is why you called me by my name in front of him? To stake your territory?”

“Indeed,” Spock took Jim’s hand and ran his fingers across his palm. Jim felt a jolt of desire. 

Just then, the music began. Spock closed his eyes and settled into the cushions never letting go of Jim’s hand.

The music was alien, certainly, but reminded Jim of Terran jazz, slow, sensuous, somewhat mysterious. There was a stringed instrument and a pipe or flute of some sort. The third instrument was a drum; every beat caused a thrum, like the Vulcan heart, that Jim could feel right down to his toes. 

Spock’s fingers were stroking a rhythm on his hand in time with the music. It was incredibly erotic. The lights had dimmed to the extent that no one else could watch Spock’s careful seduction. The air was filling with a hypnotic scent, incense that stimulated and relaxed Jim.

Spock pulled Jim back onto the cushions. He sat between Spock’s knees as Spock reclined, Jim held in his arms. It was very comfortable and intimate. Spock took a sip from the glass of port every so often, first offering Jim the glass, later holding the glass for him and finally taking a sip himself, kissing Jim and dribbling the fine port into his mouth.

Spock pulled a light mantle over their laps. He continued to kiss Jim in the human fashion while one hand played with his fingers. 

“Spock, stop, everyone will see!” Jim hissed, writhing under Spock’s touch.

“Let them.”

The music continued, Spock’s hands moving lazily over Jim’s hands and forearms. Jim looked around the room. Other couples sat at tables, fingers entwined, leaning close to each other. No one was paying attention to anyone else. Vulcan love of privacy be damned. It seemed this was expected behavior, not an aberration at all. What a fascinating insight to this seemingly cold and logical culture!

The musicians took a break and Jim and Spock sat up, Jim still held languidly in Spock’s arms. Jim noticed, what appeared to be a woman, sitting at the bar. Indeed, she was the only human in the room other than him. She watched them closely and Jim felt a wave of embarrassment that she might have been watching their activities. She lifted her glass of ale in a toast and smiled. Jim saw Spock nod to her in acknowledgment. There was a definite thread of affection pulsing along the bond. 

The woman stood and walked across the room toward them. As she got closer, Jim grew uncomfortable. He didn’t know her, didn’t want to make her acquaintance and certainly didn’t want to embarrass Spock. Interestingly, he felt no concern coming from Spock, just a growing amusement.

She stopped in front of their table and dropped to her knees, bowing her head, she greeted Spock.

“Osu.” 

“Sendamae Merris,” Jim made to stand up to greet her, but Spock held him back.

“Jim, this is Sendamae Merris, proprietor of this establishment and others in the Old City. She wishes to apologize for her discourtesy, she does not speak Standard well.”

“It is a pleasure, madam.”

Jim felt a spike of jealousy when Spock and the woman began a conversation entirely in Vulcan. Every once in a while, Jim heard his name, and they looked over at him.

Sendamae Merris was not particularly beautiful, certainly not Jim’s type which ran to petite and buxom. She was attractive though, with a trim figure, long straight blonde hair and handsome features. Her voice was lovely, low and sensuous. It was hard to tell her age but she seemed old, very old, despite her appearance. Jim suspected she was not completely human. She had a natural charisma that irritated Jim, who really didn’t want to share Spock right now.

Spock felt Jim’s annoyance through the bond, and drew the conversation to a close. Sendamae Merris threw Jim another smile, rose gracefully and returned to the bar, throwing a significant look at Spock over her shoulder.

“And who exactly is Sendamae?” 

“Jim, Sendamae is her title, you may call her Merris if you wish.”

“Spock, actually I don’t want to call her anything at all. She seemed to know you quite well. Who is she?” Jim knew he sounded jealous but he couldn’t help it.

“She is my partner, Jim.”

Whoa, what did that mean?

“Partner as in sexually?” Jim couldn’t stop himself from asking.

Spock chuckled. “Business partner and an old friend only, Jim. She is also an owner of the Tea Shop.”

Jim was trying to imagine Spock, in an apron, baking cookies and serving ice tea to patrons with Merris busy in the kitchen. It conflicted with Jim’s impression of the cool, efficient First Officer he knew.

“I am pleased she was here tonight, though. That she had an opportunity to meet you is strangely gratifying.”

“Showing me off, eh?”

“Without question.”

Hardly mollified, Jim pondered that other than T’Marra, he had never been introduced to anyone who was important to Spock. Not only did Spock have an apartment in Shi’Kahr, he had a business and evidently a network of friends.

Jim sighed, mood broken. Conversation with Sendamae Merris allowed both time to cool off. Spock indicated it was time to leave. Of course, there was no bill to settle. They gathered themselves and left with a final thank you to Korek who had discreetly reappeared.

Walking home hand in hand through the ancient streets of the Old City was romantic. There was no moon of course, but the stars were brighter on Vulcan than they would be on Earth. T’Khut reflected sunlight from Epsilon Eridiani, shadowed in rose through the thin atmosphere. As they walked, Spock seemed lost in thought. There was a growing tension between them, anticipation and desire. Jim could hardly wait to get back to the apartment.

Spock seemed to feel the same way. Jim felt his nervousness and noticed his hands trembling as he let them in the front door of the apartment.

Once the door was closed and locked behind them, they came together like a super nova. Spock’s teasing at the supper club had built up more than enough sexual tension between them. 

Somehow they made it into the bedroom, pulling and tearing off each other’s clothing. Jim could tell their previous, fairly gentle matings, were not in the cards tonight. Spock seemed to be in a frenzy, almost out of control, rubbing his body against Jim’s, his hands and mouth grabbing and pulling every inch of Jim’s skin within reach. Jim felt like he was trying to hang on to a tiger, Spock was thrashing so much now.

Spock was the first to pull away, his eyes dark, shaking and trembling with need. Nothing loath, Jim climbed on the bed and stroked Spock’s back and thighs. He bit Spock’s lovely round ass, eliciting a smothered moan. Spock went to his hands and knees, lowering his shoulders onto the bed. Bites turned into kisses, which turned into licks. Spock jumped and tensed when Jim began to massage and lick his long elegant back and thighs. Using a well-lubricated finger, Jim slid into Spock, stretching tense muscles and searching for a patch of nerve endings. Right. There. Spock almost shot off the bed but then settled back on Jim’s hand. Jim reached around with his other hand and began to pull on Spock’s organ, fast and slow, hard and soft.

When Spock began to feel relaxed if not loose, Jim removed his finger and lined himself up at Spock’s entrance.

“Hard, Jim. Please. Hard.” Spock’s voice was rough and low with desperation.

Following directions to the letter, Jim breached Spock with enough force to have seriously injured a human. The bond told him he wasn’t hurting Spock who’s Vulcan physiology demanded stronger stimulation. Jim pounded into Spock, stroking his cock in rhythm with his thrusts. Spock moaned and gasped, urging Jim for ‘more’ through the bond.

Both were getting pulled into this vortex of passion that couldn’t be stopped if their lives depended on it. The juggernaut grew and grew until Jim exploded inside Spock. Jim’s orgasm forced Spock to shout, clenching Jim tightly; he came, gasping, as well. 

Jim pulled out carefully and lay Spock down on the bed, wrapping his arms around him tightly, trying to soothe his trembling lover. Jim could feel his emotions through the bond, humiliation, shame, love, desire. He began to suspect that these strong emotions had to be forced out of Spock. If Jim overcame him with desire, it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t responsible.

If he didn’t love Spock so completely, this desperate side of his nature might have been too overwhelming. Some part of Spock knew this and was afraid Jim might abandon him. Similarly, Jim understood Spock and was strangely attracted to this broken and vulnerable side of his personality.

“It’s okay. Spock, it’s okay, you’re fine. I’m here. I love you.”

Spock buried his face in Jim’s neck. Clucking, Jim maneuvered them around the bed and managed to get the covers over Spock. His breathing slowed and evened out. Jim knew he was asleep when he heard him sigh and every muscle in his body relaxed. Jim fell asleep rubbing soothing circles on Spock’s back. 

His final thoughts before succumbing to sleep were that they probably should talk about this. Spock had been taught to be ashamed of his emotions and his desires. He trustingly placed them in Jim’s hands and Jim hoped he always would. He could also leave well enough alone until they learned the rhythms of each other’s bodies. If Jim could burn the shame from Spock’s mind and body, he would. That would take time and love; both things they had in abundance.


	6. The Gift

The days passed, one following another in easy camaraderie until the night before they were supposed to leave, to transport back to the Enterprise. That evening, both Jim and Spock were quiet. Much had been said and much was left unsaid.

Jim knew with every molecule in his body that he loved Spock. He was part of him, even without the bond, life without him was unthinkable. Still, Jim loved the Enterprise. When he first made Captain, indeed, when he first realized he was destined to be Captain, it had been incredibly daunting. Jim Kirk, the barefoot boy on a hand-me-down bicycle, standing on an old dirt road next to an Iowa cornfield, had become a soldier, an ambassador, a comrade, a father, a brother. Now, Captain James T. Kirk was all of those things and something new: a lover, a husband, a bond-mate.

Jim would have to learn how to balance those duties, those advocations. Managing Spock had always taken a light touch, special consideration, to get the best out of him. His moodiness, his tendency to withdraw from his peers and those under his command were legendary. Jim had added love and passion to the mix. He had added the daily toil of finding a balance in their personal and professional relationship. If he had to make a choice between the Enterprise and Spock, he knew he would pick the Enterprise. He also knew Spock would never allow him to make any other choice.

Spock was eager to get back to the Enterprise. He missed his work; he missed the feeling of community that he had never found on Vulcan. On the Enterprise, he was part of the whole, useful, and valued. Even if he didn’t always interact appropriately, he had never felt he had failed. He was accepted on the Enterprise, never more so than when he was with Jim.

It was with some trepidation that he considered their new relationship. How would it work? How would he be able to shift, as Jim did so deftly, between intimacy and professionalism? Was he more or less likely to slip and make a mistake, exposing his emotional core? The only thing Spock was sure of was Jim’s unwavering support and trust. If he failed, Jim would guide him through. 

Neither one had broached the subject of how or when to tell the crew. Regulations allowed this relationship only because Spock was a Vulcan and Jim was his Telsu. How or if their bonding would affect the crew was unimaginable. The only thing they could agree upon was that the bonding would remain private for the moment. As much as both would like to live together openly, it just couldn’t happen until they both found their feet.

Their mood was reflected in the weather that night. The wind blew and whistled around the buildings of the Old City, promising a tempest. The Planetary News forecast a thunder storm, something rarely seen in this province of Vulcan.

Jim stood in the bedroom, staring moodily out the tall window. The blinds were open, rattling in the wind. The soft white drape that usually fell across the opening blew into the room, like a living thing. Thunder boomed in the distance but was growing closer by the minute. Occasionally, lightning lit the dark room, throwing its occupants into shadow, crackling ozone across the sky.

Spock noted Jim’s pensive mood and drew his arms around him, urging him to lean back against him, as the storm grew closer. 

“Are we the storm, Spock?”

Spock smiled into Jim’s neck, “A metaphor, Captain?”

“Indeed, why not Mister Spock?”

As the storm threatened, Spock drew Jim towards the bed. Spock lay Jim down for the last time and made love to him. The sounds of the wind and the thunder urged them toward completion. Finally, precious rain began to fall, softly at first and then turned into a torrent. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, listening to the rain on the roof, inhaling the precious moisture, and dreamed of flying through a black sky, luminous with stars.

Jim woke up a few hours later to find Spock sitting on the edge of the bed, gently stroking his face.

“Time to go, Jim.” Jim ran his hand over his face and looked around the dark room in confusion.

“Go where Spock? We don’t leave until 1000!”

“Jim, just get dressed and come with me. I have a surprise for you.”

Jim blearily got out of bed and washed and dressed quickly as he could. At one point, Spock pushed a cup of coffee into his grateful hands.

Jim asked no questions when Spock guided him out of the apartment and down the street to a transport station. Eventually they found themselves out of the Old City and in front of the gates of Spock’s family’s home outside of Shi’ Kahr. Spock rang the bell at the gate, spoke briefly to someone inside and they found themselves walking down a path, past Spock’s ancestral home, making their way to the Forge.

The Forge was historically a barren land, more modernly a nature preserve. It encompassed many kilometers of desolate landscape, home to plants and animals rarely seen close to the metropolis. 

Though it was still dark, Jim noticed the sky beginning to lighten. The air smelled fresh and washed cleaned by the storm. It was quite cool still. Spock had wrapped them both in soft cloaks against the cold. He carried a small utility bag over his shoulder. 

Jim and Spock walked side by side on the raised path through the Forge, built so no one would disturb the native flora. They walked in near silence for about ten minutes before coming to the summit of a low hill. At the top of the summit was a bench that afforded a long view of the valley below. 

“Please, Jim, let us sit here. Make yourself comfortable. What I wish to show you will become apparent momentarily.”

Jim sat as requested, pressing close to Spock’s warm side. Spock opened his bag and pulled out a large flask, filled with hot tea. He poured them both a cup and they settled back on the bench to watch the sun come up over the craggy peaks of the L’langon Mountains.

The valley slowly filled with light, boulders and outcroppings dotting the floor casting long shadows on the dark red ground. As Epsilon Eridiani peeked over the top of the mountains, Jim heard rustling from the valley floor. He could dimly see something moving across the ground. 

As the sunlight grew stronger, he saw hundreds, no thousands of vines moving, growing, and covering the bare ground. It was both beautiful and terrifying. The vines were a dark green with small buds appearing on low waving stalks. Suddenly, the buds opened and the valley was filled with white flowers. The dry barren valley was completely covered with a blanket of moving blossoms, like snow, sharply contrasting with the red rocks. 

Spock put his arm across the back of the bench as they sat and watched the miracle the rain had brought to the Forge. Jim leaned against him, cherishing his fine sense of beauty. This was an amazing gift, one Jim would never forget.

The flowers that bloomed in the dry desert were called Waneti. Jim would later say that they represented the bond he and Spock shared. They were rare and beautiful just like their love, yet relentless when they took over the valley floor.

Hours later, after Jim and Spock returned to the Enterprise, T’Marra and Sendamae Merris, sat in O’Komekh Tea Shop drinking tea. Companionably, they watched the holovid of the magical transformation of the Forge. It had been close to thirty years since the flowers bloomed on the valley floor. The news flitters weren’t allowed too close, it was considered illogical to disturb the flora and the animals that lived there. Still, they had gotten some amazing pictures from a distance. The Waneti was in full bloom by sunrise. 

The most amazing shots of all were two figures at the summit of a hill, huddled together for warmth and companionship as a miracle was born at their very feet. The pictures were so popular they became a minor sensation on Vulcan. Everyone wanted to know who the couple was. 

T’Marra looked over at her old friend. Sendamae Merris nodded in agreement. They would never tell anyone who the two figures were. They were pretty sure it was Spock and his Captain. 

Of course, T’Marra forwarded the holovid to the Ambassador on Earth, or at least to his lovely wife, Amanda. The stills became her favorite pictures that she shared over and over again without explanation to staff and friends. Even the Ambassador was observed to have a slight sheen to his eyes when he looked at them.

A Star Fleet Communication Officer was responsible for monitoring any and all significant broadcasts from a Federation planet, especially if they were in orbit and waiting to pick up a certain command team. If a still shot of the couple hung in Lieutenant Uhura’s room, no one was the wiser. It wasn’t as if she was going to share it with the rest of the crew, well, with the exception of the Chief Medical Officer, who had won a bet worth several credits. 

Many years later, after Spock had given his life to save the Enterprise, his family, and his Captain, Jim came across the holovid of that morning. He sat alone in his cabin, grieving, unable to find comfort. On his console was a message from their old friend, Merris. The message attachment should, by rights, have overcome him. It didn’t. Just like the Waneti flower, which would grow in a barren wilderness, so had his love for Spock. The message said, “Something so cherished can not be lost; it will always be there, ready to bloom again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. This was fun to write and even more fun to edit and repost on AO3. My favorite part of this story is the waneti flowers. Please leave a review if you are inclined.

**Author's Note:**

> Please read and review if you are inclined


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